


Is This Red Robin?

by dysfunctionalbatfam



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Bruce is too tired for any of this, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jason is there for a reason, Light Fic, No Slash, No editing we die like jason todd, One-Shot, Pranks, Tim just wants to exist in peace, but of course, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysfunctionalbatfam/pseuds/dysfunctionalbatfam
Summary: Red Robin's trying to take down a gang in his district when he keeps getting calls from strangers repeatedly asking to order burgers from him. How they obtained his number is another mystery altogether.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	Is This Red Robin?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Absolute-0Zero](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Absolute-0Zero).



> Happy Birthday, Cole! I know this is short and I don't possess much writing skills, but here it is! I'm not really experienced with the Core Four as much as the Batfamily, so I chose this instead, and hopefully, you don't mind. <3

Red Robin touches down on the edge of the rooftop, landing into a low crouch as he peered through the white silts of his lenses. His winged cape billows in the wind behind him, hair mimicking the same movements. It’s a rather windy day, one that just threatens to blow him off. He doesn’t mind, because even if that happened, he would be ready.

He’s always ready, or at least he likes to think he is. It’s something he got from Bruce - the important lesson to _always_ be prepared to the best of his abilities. And really, that man is probably overdoing it, with contingency plans made _for_ other contingency plans including being turned into a mermaid and shipped off into an arranged marriage with the Duke of Scotland. He doesn’t even want to _imagine_ why Bruce is prepared for that. He _truly_ hopes that it’s unnecessary.

Tim scans the abandoned warehouse below him (why does it _always_ have to be an abandoned warehouse?) and maps out all of the visible entry and exit points from the men streaming in. Another important rule is to make sure to know the exits before entering any building. He’s not worried, however, for this is just another gang that wanted a hold in the criminal empire but was causing too much trouble in the process. Jason’s thing, but it’s in the uptown districts where Tim runs his patrols.

Another reason why he’s not worried? The gang is called the _Muffins_ . When he had first heard that, he froze up, blinked, and burst out laughing because his mind could _not_ process that. To give them some credit, the ringleader is called Mateo Muffin, but that’s another joke altogether. _No wonder they’re not doing too well in striking fear through the criminals of Gotham_ , Tim thinks with an amused twitch of his lips.

All the targets have been contained in the building, which was what Tim was waiting for. This makes sure that he can work within a closed space, which he does rather well unlike some of the other Robins, but also that there wouldn’t be any surprised ambushes from the outside. He’s just about to jump down when the comn-link in his ear flickers to life. Is it Oracle? He feels a bit irritated because he had told Barbara that he would be _fine_ on this case.

“Is this Red Robin?” A cautious voice sounds - and it isn’t Oracle’s, nor is it one that he can recognize. His eyes narrow as he answers carefully, “Yes.”

“Oh, great!” The speaker brightens up audibly. “I would like a Crispy Chicken burger with a side of steak fries. Without the pickles, please!”

“I’m sorry, but you seem to have the wrong number,” Tim says shortly, masking his shock at _how the heck did they get my number_ rather well.

The other seems to frown with the noise they make. “But you said that you were Red Robin-”

Tim sighs and shuts off his comn-link, cutting them off, and swings down into the warehouse. After he’s on a vantage point on the roof, he flicks it on again in case of any broadcasts he needs to hear. B would kill him if something happens and he isn’t alerted.

He’s in the middle of taking the goons out - a man aims a kick at his face, and he dodges to maneuver his leg above his shoulder before he grabs onto his ankle and swings him with his momentum into another goon, bringing them both down - when his comn-link flickers to life again. 

“Yes?” Tim says half-heartedly, as his attention is still on the armed men - slide below, twist upwards, uppercut in the gut - and another voice comes through. Not the familiar one he’s been expecting, but from another stranger. 

“Rude,” comes the scoff. “Leavin’ a bad review on Yelp for customer service. Anyhow, I’d like some Chicken Caesar’s Wrap and a cup of soda, Coca-Cola.” A few moments of silence, besides the occasional grunt from men in the warehouse, “You there?”

Tim just drags out a long sigh. “Wrong number, I’m the vigilant-”

The man hangs up on him. Tim sighs again.

Tim manages to take all the goons out with a bullet wound to spare. Nothing much, just a graze along his upper forearm, so he’s not worried. He stops a couple muggings here and there, nothing much, and lands in his safehouse to go take a shower and rest. But before he manages to climb in through the window (it helps attract less attention, despite what one would think), the device in his ear fizzles again. Caught off guard, the vigilante yelps and falls off the building and lands in the dumpster below. He decides in that moment that his life hates him.

“Hey, Red Robin here? I… I’m really sorry for bothering you this late, but I only want a double cheeseburger-”

Tim wants to rip his comn-link out of his ear and smash it under his boot, but he catches himself. After all, once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a _pattern_.

“How did you get this number?” Tim grumbles tiredly, shifting to make himself as comfortable as possible in the pile of rotting trash.

“What do you mean?” There’s confusion in the feminine voice. “It’s listed on your website.”

With that, Tim’s done. Nope. He’s not doing this. He tears the sleek device out of his ear and settles back into the garbage pile that he now calls home. He’s too tired for any of this.

* * *

The Red Hood is simply stalking through the alleyways near the border of his patrol route, looking to pick out minor and petty crimes with as much ease as playing the dinosaur game on the Google webpage. ( _Okay, Dick, I’m not very good at the game, no need to rub it in, but you get my point._ ) He’s stopped a couple of small offenses along the streets, but there’s not been anything else along his route. Maybe it’s because he had put down one of the major crime lords in his earlier a few days ago and it warned the other gang rings into submission, for now. He could work with that, but otherwise, it’s been a slow night and a rather relaxing one as well, without any surprises.

Until he sees Tim passed out in a dumpster.

Jason blinks, freezing in place. He saw _what again_? But there his brother is, lying on a mound of trash, and all he can do is suppress a laugh and snap a quick picture for blackmail. He doesn’t really need to use it against Tim, but maybe he can trade it with Dick or Steph for some really good benefits. Or he could get the video of himself snoring in the middle of the kitchen floor back from Dickhead. He really doesn’t want that out. In his defense, he was tired and hasn’t slept for days, so he believes that it was fairly reasonable.

“ ‘Sup, Replacement,” Jason drawls out, amusement heavily littered in his tone. “I see you have finally found your rightful place.”

Red Robin stirs slightly at the abrasive voice and groans, eyes fluttering open behind the lenses of his mask. “I… wha? Why am I still in my costume and where am I-” A pause.

“ _Oh_.”

Jason snickers, detaching his helmet with a _hiss_ and tucking it under his arm, his unmistakable, signature white streak springing up with the rest of his hair. There’s a smirk curled onto his face as he opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by a hiss from Tim.

The younger brother narrows his eyes into an accurate imitation of the Bat-glare, seemingly snapping completely awake. It had to be a hacker to put his number on the Red Robin webpage, and the man in front of him matched the correct intentions. It all made perfectly good sense. He’s going to get his revenge no matter what happens. “ _You_.”

Jason’s eyes widen fearfully (whether it was a mock imitation or real, no one knows, although they _do_ know that Tim has quite a few tricks up his sleeve and should be feared if he’s really determined to get someone) but speeds off, letting out a loud cackle that would rival Dick's with his voice echoing off the walls. “Sorry, I’ve got to go!”

Tim pushes himself off the garbage pile and begins chase, yelling profanities after him.

* * *

The Batman stands imposingly on the rooftop, his shadow looming over the streets below. No, he’s not being dramatic no matter what Alfred or his kids tell him.

His head whips around when he hears a high-pitched shriek to his left. Sensing danger or trouble, he runs across the rooftops, boots splashing in the water - it had started to rain - when he sees a flash of red. Or rather, two, the figures distinctly representing his own middle sons.

Bruce sighs, nice and loud while he pinches the bridge of his nose and stops in his tracks to let his shoulders slump. He doesn’t want to know anymore. 

“Master Bruce? Is everything okay?” Alfred asks in his ear with his indifferent British accent.

Bruce just mutters a regretful “I’m getting too old for this” before he leaps off the building in the opposite direction of his sons.

He should have really stopped at one.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by https://batkid-shenanigans.tumblr.com/post/616424865845690368/comic-11-tried-something-new-this-time-quote#notes.


End file.
